"So this is what the inside of a courtroom looks like." More often than not I felt a little like Tom Cruise's character in A Few Good Men working in Los Angeles Superior Court for the judge last summer.

Vaguely familiar with the actual day-to-day proceedings of attorneys and judges and court-house administrators and without the benefit of taking LLS's Civil Procedure class, crafting memos and tentative rulings for the judge was a little bit of trial by fire.

The first time I realized I might be a little over my head was with my initial interview when the judge asked, "So what do you know about me?" Relieved that I had done my homework and Googled him, I explained my awe at his race times for the Manhattan Beach Pier to Pier swim and tried to express gratitude for his leadership in founding several ocean awareness camps that I had taken part in as a youth. He waved these comments aside when he refocused his question to his legal decisions and tenure in the courthouse ....Right...Of course ....His legal opinions.

It was the first of many times when I was certain I had accomplished the task, representing LLS and myself as a competent scholar, only to have a solitary comment remind me that I have much to learn. Like using TWEN more accurately, or double-checking sources with actual books in the library or really thinking about every possible angle to an issue.

As an evening student, I, like many others balance a day job, a family and evening studies. I have had great experiences in my career thus far with a diverse set of employers and job responsibilities. However, none have left me with the feelings of urgency and responsibility that accompanied the preparation of a tentative ruling for the Judge. Often with less than 48 hours to prepare, I stayed up very late at night to make sure my research was accurate and my words succinct. It felt like a rare time in my life when there was something greater than my interest at stake. The work I was doing was going to directly affect someone's life the next day in court, and often I would be present to see that outcome in the courthouse room.

This feeling was the reason I came to Loyola - to gain the knowledge and experience that would allow me to truly be of service to a larger community.

On Wednesday, Jan. 25, the Consumer Attorneys Association of Los Angeles (CAALA) partnered up with Loyola Law School and the Loyola CAALA Chapter to host a screening of the award-winning film, Hot Coffee. Through four individual accounts of the adverse effects of the persistent and steady deform of our civil justice system, the critically acclaimed HBO documentary sent viewers out of the screening room "thinking in a brand new way." -- The Washington Post.

The primary theme of the film focuses on how our civil justice system has been under heavy attack for the past 25 years. Big business interests have made huge gains in the hearts and minds of the average person. They have launched a public relations campaign dating back to the mid-80s and continuing over the last two decades, aimed at convincing the public that we have uncontrollable juries, too many frivolous lawsuits, and a civil justice system that needs reforming. They have used anecdotes, half-truths and sometimes straight out lies in their efforts to put limits on people's access to our court system - the one and only place where an average citizen can go toe to toe with those with money and power and still have a shot at justice.

Because of the success of the public relations campaigns, paid for by the biggest of our nation's corporate entities, our civil justice system is no longer impartial. Jurors have been led to believe that a large verdict will affect their own pocketbooks. Voters believe that we have a court system that needs reforming. And there has yet to be enough money to launch the kind of public relations campaign for consumers that can even begin to combat and challenge the public relations campaigns of pro-business and tort reform groups.

Because almost everyone has heard about the McDonald's coffee case, and most people believe they know what the case was about, the movie begins with the true story behind this case. Of course, the movie goes much further, and the McDonald's case serves as a vehicle for people to think about their long held beliefs and whether they are valid. The director of the film, Susan Saladoff, believes that the movie has the potential, with the right funding and effort, to really change the way people think about our civil justice system and access to the courts.

Following the screening, students were able to discuss the vital issues presented with legendary trial lawyers Bruce Broillet and John "Jack" Denove. It was a truly "eye-opening" experience for everyone involved.-- Variety. A copy of the film is available to students at the William M. Rains Law Library on campus.

It seemed crazy to me that anyone would expect a law school graduate to begin bar study exactly two days after graduation. Alas, my bar prep course expected just that. After entertaining family members during graduation weekend and trying earnestly to enjoy it, I knew I was living a complete lie. In less than two days, the "make it or break it" portion of my law school career was about to begin.

I was lucky enough to have an amazing study partner for bar prep. Shelley and I mapped out our entire schedule for each day, including blocks of time that allowed us to take breaks and exercise. I truly believe that bar prep was the only time during which I was truly balanced during law school. I studied in the morning, ate a healthy lunch, exercised, then went back to studying, taking practice tests, and drilling rule statements for the rest of the night. This pattern continued for almost two-and-a-half months--the amount of time it takes to study for and hopefully master enough material to pass the bar.

During law school, I always struggled with that balance. While I kept dedicated to my studies, I had a strong desire to further dedicate myself to extracurricular activities, including Law Review, the Student Bar Association, OutLaw and other student clubs. Although my stress and over-commitment was a product of my own doing, I often felt overwhelmed and, as I said, over-committed. All of it, in retrospect, was absolutely worth it. Keeping up with a demanding schedule made me alert and focused--everything you need to be for bar study.

Back to the real topic at hand--the bar. The balance Shelley and I struck during this time helped us to pass. Yes, I said "PASS." No matter how hopeless it felt at times--no matter how disorientated and behind we felt--we kept to our schedule and challenged each other to make the most of this anomalous moment in our lives. Never before had we ever put our lives on hold to do one thing--study for the bar. We all have a millions things going on in our lives all the time, be it family matters, job stress, taking care of loved ones, having children and the like. This stress, however, is one that no one but we hopeful lawyers will ever experience.

Your entire future rides on these few months. That aspect of bar prep adds an insurmountable and mostly subconscious amount of stress to this period in your life. However, you can do it. You can maintain the balance you need to make this happen and PASS, as I did. Keep to the schedule, do what's right for you and take breaks when you need to. Listen to yourself. You know what's best for you. Whether you have an amazing study partner (as I did in Shelley), or not, you define what leads to passing the bar.

Now that I've passed and that chapter of my life has come to an end, I've found myself working at an amazing entertainment law firm that still challenges me to maintain that focus and drive I had during bar study. And although the bar had little to do with how I do my job from day to day, I'm grateful for the challenge it presented to me. If I can pass the bar the first time, I can certainly handle unruly clients, nearly impossible assignments and long hours.

You, too, will have this feeling. I promise.

Four Loyola Law School alumni are poised to play pivotal roles in the impending litigation involving economic-loss, personal-injury and wrongful-death claims from reported instances of unintended acceleration in certain Toyota cars. On the defense side, Toyota recently hired Tom Nolan '75 to serve as lead counsel in economic-loss cases. Arguing on behalf of the consumers will be three alumni: Tom Girardi '64, Tony Rackauckas '71 and Mark P. Robinson, Jr. '71. Nolan, of Skadden Arps Slate Meagher & Flom LLP, will help navigate the economic-loss cases in federal and state court. He represented MGA Entertainment in its high-profile litigation with Mattel over copyright infringement in the Bratz line of dolls. MGA was ultimately awarded $309 million in damages and fees. Nolan's economic-loss case in front of Los Angele County Superior Court Judge Anthony J. Mohr is set to begin in September 2012. Loyola's Civil Justice Program honored Nolan as a Champion of Justice in 2007.

Robinson, a partner with Robinson Calcagnie Robinson Shapiro Davis, Inc. in Newport Beach, CA, was named a co-lead plaintiffs' counsel in the portion of the class-action case accusing the carmaker of negligence causing wrongful death and injuries when U.S. District Judge James Selna consolidated claims in May 2010. Robinson is no stranger to auto-defect litigation. He litigated the landmark 1978 Ford Pinto fire case that ushered in the modern era of auto-defect litigation. "The time has now come to focus on the victims, the people who have experienced sudden unintended litigation," Robinson told the Associated Press.

Rackaukas, who has been the Orange County district attorney since 1998, has pursued consumer causes against large corporations as the county's top prosecutor. Early in his career, he prosecuted large oil companies for contaminating drinking water. "The job of the D.A., in my view, is to do everything that I can to enhance the safety of the community and enhance the community's feeling that they're as safe as we can help them be," he has said. Girard, of Girardi | Keese, has litigating a wide variety of product-liability cases. He obtained a $4.85 billion settlement in litigation against Merck pharmaceutical company for personal injuries suffered by consumers who used Vioxx medication. Loyola's Civil Justice Program honored Girardi as a Champion of Justice in 2005 and bestowed the same honor on Robinson in 2007. ]]> tag:llsblog.lls.edu,2011:/students/guest//16.247 2011-12-21T00:38:07Z 2012-02-17T21:02:31Z

As the daughter of a Korean immigrant, I had always imagined that one day I would visit Seoul. At some future point, when time and money allowed, I saw myself strolling through palaces and meeting long-lost relatives. As it turned out, my first trip to Seoul did include those things, but it mostly involved arguing a case about an international banana contract dispute. And I couldn't be more pleased.

During your career at Loyola, you will be offered a banquet of opportunities to apply your legal skills. Clinics, externships, law reviews and moot court offerings will hit your e-mail box faster than you can delete. Some of them will attract you because they are in a field of law in which you hope to practice. But others will simply provide an opportunity to expand your legal horizons and build skills that transfer to various legal practices.

For me, the LAWASIA moot court competition was just such an opportunity. I knew nothing about international law or conflict of laws when I first applied to join the LAWASIA moot team, but I knew that I wanted moot court experience to better prepare me to be a litigator. Participating in the competition involved an enormous amount of work for me and my two teammates, Maya Harel and John Lee. We researched and wrote lengthy brief over the summer (during the evenings and weekends since we all had summer jobs) and practiced six days a week as the competition neared in the fall. We all learned a tremendous amount about arbitration and international trade law.

The competition was held in Seoul this year in conjunction with the LAWASIA Conference, an annual gathering of lawyers from around Asia. In all, 16 teams from universities primarily in Asia - including India, Malaysia, Singapore, Japan and Korea -participated in multiple rounds of mock arbitration. All of the teams were sharp and well-prepared -- and a lot of fun. Meeting law students from other nations gave us an opportunity to understand differences in legal practice and to find a lot of commonality.

As for how our team did in the competition: We struggled in the first round. Nerves, mild language barriers and an unfamiliar setting threw us off -- not to mention how skillful the other teams were! But in the end, we found our rhythm and made it to the semi-finals.

We did, incidentally, get to visit a palace, and I even met some long-lost cousins. But my first trip to Seoul turned out to be even richer than I could have imagined: both in life experience and growth in my legal skills. What could be better than that?

For 19 years August has meant two things for me: the end of summer and school supplies shopping. Nothing gives quite the same thrill as a freshly sharpened pack of pencils or ¬¬¬¬¬blank notebook full of promise. Recently I was asked me if I had gone school supply shopping and this got me thinking: Which school supplies does a law student really need? Before my first year, I bought just about everything Target had to offer and hardly used any of it. So here is my list of important supplies to get you through the year:

• A computer: Yes, a few people in my class hand wrote their notes and they literally were champions. For the rest of us mere mortals, typing is a much easier way to keep up with a professor's quick lecture pace.
• Textbook: I know what you're thinking....obviously! But more than ever your textbook (more generally called a casebook) will become your best friend.
• Highlighters: Seriously, stock up now! Inevitably you will find that one color that you like best (for me its green) and when it runs out it will throw off your whole day.
• Folders/Binders: As you get closer to finals you will start to find yourself bogged down with outlines, course reviews and class notes. I was a one binder kinda girl and compiled everything from every class into one (meaning that it weighed about 5 pounds.) However you like to organize, its best to figure it out now because come final time you will be too busy to notice.
• Tabs, tabs and more tabs: This is just for those of you who love school supplies because nothing makes you feel more accomplished then finishing reading an assignment and seeing the fruit of your labor in bright colors. Tab away!

So yes, your days of Lisa Frank stickers and 180 count crayon boxes are officially over, but this is nothing that a few rainbow colored tabs and neon highlighters can't fix.

]]> tag:llsblog.lls.edu,2011:/students/guest//16.181 2011-07-27T22:41:26Z 2011-07-27T22:43:11Z

By Sean Montgomery, 3L

Law school undoubtedly teaches first-year students a new way to think. It is one of the pleasant side effects of the Socratic method. Yet, after surviving my first year, the one question that I often had was: how do I use all of this knowledge? Fortunately, I got a unique opportunity to extern for the Supreme Court of Delaware, where I drafted bench memoranda on a variety of cases, ranging from constitutional violations to the winding up of a partnership. Externing in Delaware was amazing, but my summer externship at the Disability Rights Legal Clinic (DRLC) easily rivals that experience.

Here, I continue to enhance my practical skill set as I help clients who are desperate for an advocate. In a span of six weeks, I have helped draft portions of a demand letter, completed the initial draft of a complaint, spent countless hours on memoranda, and participated in a successful mediation.

Of these tasks, the mediation process, filled with tension and constant legal maneuvering, has been my favorite. As I sat through the mediation, I observed the tenacity with which our attorneys advocated for our client, the reaction of the defendants when they realized there weren't any legal loopholes to maneuver through, and the impartiality of the mediator as he informed us of the strengths and weaknesses of our case. After negotiating the injunctive relief, my supervising attorneys strategically negotiated our client's compensatory damages and our attorneys' fees. The intensity and suspense of the negotiations, heightened when the mediator knocked on the door to relay the other side's offer, had me on the edge of my seat. Although the negotiations were exciting, the highlight of the mediation process was seeing our client's face when we informed her that we had reached an agreement on the injunctive relief.

Thus far, my experience at the DRLC has been everything I have hoped for. Not only have I gained practical experience and had the opportunity to wear a suit (it makes me feel like a lawyer), but I am constantly reminded of what we should be doing with all of the knowledge that we are acquiring--helping people. I couldn't have asked for a better summer.

By Michael Boardman '11

Back in January, a California Court of Appeal sided with one of California's most influential special interests, the Howard Jarvis Taxpayer Association, and overturned the state Legislature's ability to draft language for the titles and summaries that explain legislative initiatives on state ballots.

The decision itself is not necessarily a surprise. Titles of initiatives are supposed to be impartial descriptions, yet the Legislature had suggestively titled Proposition 9 the "Safe, Reliable High-Speed Passenger Train Bond Act," and the Howard Jarvis Taxpayer Association has been a juggernaut in state politics since it shepherded the infamous Proposition 13 in 1978. The surprise is that Jarvis and other special interests have repeatedly transformed the California Constitution with the help of the courts' standard of review, which takes inspiration from the harshest critics of constitutional dynamism -- the originalists.

For decades, the state Supreme Court has interpreted ambiguous language in initiatives by attempting to identify the intent of the voters. Since voters function as the legislature in direct democracy, this practice appears to be a natural extension of traditional statutory construction principles; courts generally seek to resolve ambiguities in the plain language of the law by identifying the intent of the lawmakers and interpreting their words accordingly.

But on a closer look, California's scheme seems to confuse philosophical principles, acting as a sort of Scalia-Breyer hybrid by using originalist principles to create a dynamic constitution. On the one hand, the court interprets initiative amendments based on the understanding of the public at the time it was passed (Justice Antonin Scalia's "original understanding"), and on the other it relies heavily on election materials as "legislative history," which Scalia finds largely irrelevant, to interpret initiative statutes consistently with current norms (Justice Stephen G. Breyer's responsive "living document"). This strange combination of values essentially creates a series of floating "originalist" interpretations, each based on its own constitutional amendment, a practice that tethers new laws to past interpretations and erodes the basic principles of California's direct democracy.

The originalist philosophy rests with a need to establish consistency in the rule of law. While often criticized as untenable, it can be defended based on its clear delineation of empirical standards. Whatever the difficulties with accurately understanding and transmuting past social landscapes, originalism can at least guarantee that the court will not be creating new interpretive principles out of whole cloth. Rather, the court applies a specific set of standards that, arguably, remain constant over time.

Direct democracy, however, is not suited to this type of analysis. It is inherently inconsistent; it asks the public to amend the Constitution on an as-needed, normative basis. The Framers of the California Constitution intended its meaning to change with the times. Any kind of ad hoc extension of prior worldviews is antithetical to the foundation of the Constitution as a living document.

To fulfill the aims of direct democracy, initiative amendments must be interpreted in a way that embraces and continues California's dynamic Constitution. Adhering to the intent of voters that existed at the time they passed constitutional amendments serves only to reinforce the originalist principle that the California initiative process expressly rejects. When it comes to interpreting ambiguous initiative language, the California court needs to decide which principles it actually holds dear.

If initiative amendment language is not clear, then why not strike the whole initiative and start over? Just as we can't ever know exactly what the Framers understood the words of the federal Constitution to mean 220 years ago, we can't determine the intent of 40 million Californians with any substantial accuracy. Often the best we can do is to look at statements describing the initiatives in the voter pamphlet -- statements made in large part by special interest groups. Such groups already dominate the information provided to the public in elections. Their influence should not control the judiciary as well.

A better approach may be to accept the amendments but also adopt Justice Breyer's interpretive test in its entirety, focusing on the purpose and consequences of initiative amendments instead of the amorphous intent of the voters. The California Constitution was intended to be responsive to the whims of the public, but the courts' voter intent analysis ensures that the document will be forever capricious. Initiatives are rarely proposed as part of a comprehensive governing scheme, and any later statutes or case law derived from these initiative amendments will be tied to the intents of various disjointed points in time. Courts should work to identify a larger cohesive purpose in the legislative amendments that form the backbone of our state laws. A constitution is meaningless if it is simply an accumulation of society's most heavily bankrolled beliefs.

California's direct democratic processes grew out of a distrust of government and a failure of old constitutional principles to adapt to new norms. But as much as Californians have historically distrusted legislators, they reserve a special kind of skepticism for special interests. Groups such as the Howard Jarvis Taxpayer Association routinely take power from the many and hand it to the few by drafting initiatives and creating much of the "indicia of voter intent" that courts look to for guidance.

If the state Supreme Court continues to apply its strange hybrid standard of review, combining originalism and dynamism, fights such as the one decided last month -- which, funded by special interests, are in essence fights over who gets to decide how the voters' intent can best be explained -- will continue to dominate the political marketplace and distort California's most fundamental document. In the meantime, we can at least be assured that the often-embattled initiative process cannot be criticized for lacking a sense of judicial irony.

Michael Boardman is a 2011 graduate of Loyola Law School, Los Angeles.